As murmurs began to rise, the king motioned for continued silence. He went on when his wish was granted. “I find our lack of progress and the continued violence within my lands disturbing. In addition, the council has chosen to come to these procedures with private armies in tow, not loyal to the crown.”
No one dared speak, though several councilors fidgeted and were ready to jump up with words barely contained. The king looked at them all before he continued. “This council was formed by my ancestor in hopes of creating a body of peoples that would speak for the different regions from which they came. Furthermore, those that came before me granted minor nobility upon long standing members of the council and bestowed them stewardship of their lands. Over the last two generations, these titles have been passed down from parent to child. During the last generation my father chose not to waste his time with council; the system eroded and became bogged down with regents and proxies. It took the intervention of the Truth Blade for me to see the errors of my predecessors.”
The king turned to David and motioned for him to rise. Once he stood the king asked, “Were those words truthful?”
David was not certain what was happening, but answered the only way he could, “Yes, Lord Avrant, your words hold truth.”
“You see,” the king said turning back to the council. “I have given you a true history of the council. Now, I will add the final part. As of today, all titles of nobility are hereby revoked by the crown, and this useless council is dissolved. Civil order will be restored and each of you will face the crown’s justice.”
The council tent ripped in several places and guards entered from every side. The royal guard, except Hogan, all drew their swords. Everyone stood and shouting filled the tent.
“Lord Avrant!” both David and Hogan shouted desperately. The king turned to them. A darkness dwelled within his eyes, and when he spoke it laced his words.
“The council serves at the king’s privilege and I don’t see the need for it any longer. Truth Blade, you know the truth of this.” Without waiting for a response from David, Avrant turned his full attention to Hogan. “Come, cousin; your family and your king ask for your sword.”
Suddenly, a messenger entered the tent and signaled the king. The king smiled broadly and bellowed above the crowd. “Silence, or you will face instant death instead of a court!”
Slowly the councilors fell mute, though a distant disturbance prevented total silence. Theatrically, the king cupped a hand around one of his ears before speaking again.
“Ah, there it is. Order is being reestablished as we meet. By now the treacherous military forces brought to my doorstep are being engaged by an army of soldiers loyal to myself and several of my family from nearby kingdoms. Soon all disruptive forces within this kingdom will be dealt with using extreme prejudice.”
At these last words the king turned back to David and smiled wickedly. “Guards,” he called, “kill any who resist arrest.”
With a fluid motion a long thin knife appeared in the king’s hand and was thrown toward Mel. David pushed his son aside and reached for his sword. Before he could act further, another blade flashed in front of him and deflected the knife. Hogan stood pale and panting, his eyes locked on his cousin’s. Lord Avrant sneered, then spat at Hogan.
“Useless, muling whelp,” he cursed as he pulled a cylinder from his robes. At the tip sat half a dozen barbs on a small ball. The king pushed a button near his thumb and small arcs of electricity danced between the barbs. David had his sword out now, and Deborah was pulling a staff from under the railing of the banister in front of her. Hogan eyed his cousin, then without breaking eye contact unsheathed and passed back his second sword to Mel. The king’s complexion darkened and he let out a small snarl. Hogan maintained eye contact and spoke softly to Avrant.
“Avrant, you need to take a moment to think. Your weapon has maybe four minutes of charge or two good pulses. While it will still act as a good club after it is discharged, you have to know you face at least moderately skilled fighters. When was the last time you trained in armed combat? I know it wasn’t in the last five to eight years. The Koens have been practicing daily, and your guards are otherwise engaged with holding this tent in order. Let’s stop this before it goes any further. Let’s get out of here before something fatal happens.”
The king snarled once more, but didn’t move. Then his appearance got eerily calm and he smiled once more. When he spoke it was with a self-assured air. “I don’t have to do anything; just wait. A fourth force is no doubt already taking care of the problem guests at Way House.”
David gripped his sword tightly and gritted his teeth. He spoke in quick bursts between his clenched teeth. “Hogan, see to Deb. Mel, on my left. Time to go.”
They began backing out. While Avrant and the others were preoccupied at the front of the tent, the guards had quickly worked at subduing and binding the council. Thus, neither the guards nor councilors were paying attention to the proceedings at the front of the tent. David’s group was near the main opening when a captive councilor looked up and finally caught on to what else was happening. Desperately he shouted to his fellows.
“Avrant is trying to kill off the new twelve!”
The king turned like a serpent, and a pulse of lightning shot out and impaled the hapless councilor. Then without missing a beat he turned back to the Koens, who were trying to take advantage of the king’s inattention. Avrant snarled and shot a bolt of electricity at Mel, who crumbled to the ground when it hit him. Seeing this, David roared.
“Hogan, get Deb out of here!” he shouted as he leapt forward and hit the king with the flat part of the Sword of Truth. David’s rage brought to bear great force, and the blade hit the king’s temple with a resounding smack. Avrant crumbled. David dove over to Mel and saw a scorch mark on his right shoulder. He quickly felt the wound with a hand and searched for a pulse with the other. Finding a faint pulse and only charred skin, David let out a grateful prayer. As he began to sit up he felt a blade poke his back. He turned his head to see one of the guards standing there. Another was seeing to the king.
“Sir,” the guard said, “you will surrender.”
In a blur of motion, David rolled to the side and grabbed the Sword of Truth. He stood in a crouch and twisted his arm and slashed backwards. The guard had little time to react and started lunging by the time David struck. David’s sword sliced across the guard’s right arm. The man screamed, dropped his sword, and clutched his arm to him. By the time the guard seeing to the king registered that something was happening, David was beside him with his sword at the ready.
“My son is alive; Avrant is still alive. Let’s all count our blessings and stand down.” The guard backed up, hands away from his sword. “Avrant, former king of the Seventh realm, has known for some time that a new twelve has been brought forth. He acted out of desperation and blindness. The lure of power has overtaken him and he could not see giving it up even in the face of God’s will.”
Before David could say more the guard he had cut fell to his knees crying. “Can’t you feel the truth. Ahhh, the truth burns through me!”
David turned to the guard and spoke softly. “Yes, I’m sorry; the truth can be painful. We will get someone here to tend to your wounds.”
“Sword Bearer,” a smallish elf stepped forward. His uniform looked well-worn and his features spoke of many days spent outside. “I’m from Yero’s band, sir. I can run and get a healer.”
David nodded and the man ran out of the tent. The guard who had been attending the king spoke up. “What do you plan on doing now, Truth Blade? Are you going to take the mantle of king?”
“No, that is not my place. . .”
“His children are the new twelve,” the wounded guard spoke in a haunted voice. “They will rule. A Truth Blade denies the throne.”
David nodded once more and pointed to the wounded guard. “There is the reason why. What king should ever wield the power to impose truth upon every soul? God call
s us to His truth, He does not seek slaves, only free men. The Void sells the truth as harsh and it can be, but more so it is liberating from the darkness and confusion of this broken creation. The Sword of Truth rips back the veil, revealing the overpowering light of the Word. It takes a long time to recover from that.”
“What is going to happen now, though?”
David looked over to the other guard, his wounded son, the unconscious Avrant and the still bound council members. Every eye now became focused on David. The sound of battle continued outside and David sighed heavily.
“Unfortunately,” he said gravely, “we wait here.”
As soon as David had yelled, “Hogan, get Deb out of here!” there was no hesitation. Hogan knew both he and Deborah could have helped, though he didn't know what else his cousin had planned. Hogan suspected more, and then thought of the smallest children in Way House. His and Deborah’s skills would be of better use there.
Hogan grabbed Deborah around the waist with one arm and pulled her toward the main tent entrance. Deborah was staring at her brother's still form, looking frantically for signs of life. She struggled against Hogan’s efforts, but was brought up short when he hissed in her ear.
“Your other brothers and sisters!”
She nearly cried out as the image of Mel was replaced with that of Mary, Jeremiah, Dinah and the others. She blindly ran with Hogan as he led her toward the castle. They would not reach this destination though. As they passed an old oak an inky darkness shot out and wrapped around them. A current of electricity pulsed through the tendrils as they continued to wind around Hogan’s and Deborah’s legs, hips, and arms.
Both Hogan and Deborah fell to the ground, barely conscious. A tall slender elf stepped from the shadows of the oak. Deborah didn’t know this creature was not an elf; rather, it was a demon. She didn’t know that, though she did know that she and Hogan were trapped. Another energy pulse surged through the creature as ropy strands crept into their mouths.
Chapter 28
The Beagle stood, its hackles raised. An extremely un-hound-like growl issued from its throat. Everybody, even those not in the same room, became instantly alert and grabbed up nearby weapons. First Thunder held tightly to a massive axe and stepped over to the snarling angel.
“What is it?” he asked thankful that he was not on the receiving end of the angel’s ire. “What do you sense?”
“Deborah,” the Beagle growled, “and a demon.”
Before anything else could be said, a flaming keg smashed through the main doorway. Burning liquid washed over the floor, causing the Beagle, First Thunder, and the others in the room to jump back. Eve stood with the younger children on the stairs. Nic came running into the room with Fleet of Foot and Silas.
“They’re at the back door,” Fleet of Foot started, but stopped short when he surveyed the fire taking hold in the room. Suddenly, smaller flaming objects broke through several of the windows. The flames were catching quickly and were beginning to eat away the walls.
First Thunder sneered, “They want us to try to go out the back where the way is only big enough for one at a time.”
Rock grunted, “They mean to slaughter us.”
The eldest clan brother gripped his axe and leaned toward the back door, “We’ll give them more than they bargained for.”
Just then a strong wind rushed down the stairs and through the main room. The wind pushed at the flames and blasted a broad path to the ruined double doors. No sooner had the wind dispersed than the flames began licking back to the territory it lost.
“Or we could go quickly out the front,” the Beagle said after shooting a quick look at the children who had been pushed against the wall by the gust.
“Everybody move now!” boomed First Thunder. No one wasted time in complaining or debating. The older children took charge of the smaller children while the Coterie brothers took the fore.
The thralls at the front of the house were blown back by the wind, and stinging pieces of smoldering wood pelted them. As they were recovering, Rock, First Thunder, and Fleet of Foot strode into their midst. The three brothers harried the demon slaves to clear a path for the Koens and the Beagle, who had taken up the position of rear guard. Just as the children cleared the throng of fighters, the thralls gained their composure and surged forward. The Coterie brothers tightened their formation.
“Keep everybody moving. Head for the council tent,” the Beagle instructed as it backpedaled to join the clan brothers.
An arrow shot from off of the side of the house. It sped fast and true and struck Jeremiah in the right shoulder. The boy went spinning from the impact. Nic was by him before he hit the ground. He quickly scooped his younger brother in his arms. Nic looked back at where the arrow hand come from and saw three, now four, now seven Dark Riders bearing down on them.
With a shout of frustration Nic sped forward. He caught up to the other children and began bellowing orders. “Eve, Silas, move them away from the castle, We’ve been betrayed here. We need to find shelter.”
Eve looked back, saw the Dark Riders, and cursed. Then with Silas she began heading their siblings toward the main gate. The Riders were closing the distance, however, and the children didn’t have a chance to make it that far. Quickly assessing their chances Nic stopped running, set Jeremiah down, and drew his sword. The Riders headed right for him.
Caliban closed the distance fastest and began to trade sword blows with Nic. Then Vex arrived. Gall added his sword to the fray. The three Riders worked in tandem raining blows down upon Nic, yet the boy parried all three. Grim determination was painted on Nic’s face, but he was not as experienced as three mounted veterans. Then there was the fourth Rider prancing around, trying to find an opening to add his sword to the fray. The other Riders too spread out; Ferreter, seeing the downed Jeremiah, edged his horse around the battle, trying to get to him.
When the Riders had chosen not to follow Nic’s siblings, they made a calculated error. They had not figured on the Coterie brothers at their back. For the fourth Rider this error quickly became a fatal one. Fleet of Foot jumped out of nowhere on to the back of the Rider’s horse. In a flash, two short swords were protruding from the Rider’s chest. Fleet of Foot pulled his swords free and pushed the body into Gall. Gall, seeking to dodge the corpse, swung wide the blow he was aiming at Nic. Nic ducked closer to Gall’s horse, missing twin strikes from Caliban and Vex. Nic pulled a long dagger from a leg holster and planted it into Gall’s exposed leg. Gall and his horse screamed as the blade punctured them both.
Gall’s horse reared and spooked the other horses. Caliban and Vex fought their horses and dropped their guards. Nic pushed the advantage and cut the horse from under Vex. Vex had to jump off to avoid being crushed by the falling stallion. Before Caliban had fully recovered, Nic sheathed his sword, grabbed Jeremiah who was doing his best to crawl away from the battle, and beat a retreat.
As Nic was taking advantage of the opening Fleet of Foot had given him. The Coterie man himself was engaging the remaining Riders. Fleet of Foot had seen Ferreter’s intended target and redirected the horse he was on to block the Dark Rider. The other Riders quickly swarmed upon him. Fleet of Foot jumped off the horse and moved amongst the Riders like a squirrel. He was a blur of motion. At this speed he could only land glancing blows. His actions proved a long enough distraction nonetheless. By the time Nic was retreating once more, First Thunder was adding his axe to the battle.
The massive dual bladed weapon hewed through the air and embedded itself in the back of an unsuspecting Rider. The man’s spine shattered and he fell loosely off his horse. First Thunder was upon the man and pulled his axe free. He then plunged himself into the melee.
Seeing the changing battle conditions, Vex backed away from the main group. He then noticed Nic escaping, now close to the castle gates. Vex turned his focus back to the battle and focused upon the rapidly shifting Fleet of Foot. Concentrating hard, the Rider breathed a dark curse. Though there was little po
wer behind it, as it was midday, the curse slammed into Fleet of Foot and knocked him unconscious.
Out of the corner of his eye Vex saw First Thunder charging. Still recovering from casting the curse, he dodged clumsily as the warrior’s axe came at him. The axe missed cleaving Vex from top to bottom, but it did slice quickly through his right arm. Vex howled and placed his hand over the severed flesh. As he rolled away, smoke rose from the wound.
With Fleet of Foot down and First Thunder occupied trying to hack Vex apart, Caliban took a moment to assess the situation and realized his mistake. He had to act quickly to correct it. He pulled out his bow and nocked an arrow. The arrow flew swiftly and lodged into First Thunder’s right thigh. A second arrow quickly followed, this one finding its mark in the Coterie’s right shoulder.
“Riders, to me!” Caliban shouted, loading a third arrow.
The Riders answered Caliban’s rally cry, and soon First Thunder was facing off with four mounted Riders and Vex, his arm socket still smoldering. First Thunder grinned drunkenly and laughed. He hefted his axe in his good arm and took a step forward. He was focused on the mounted Riders and started a charge. He took only one more step. Suddenly, two knives were protruding from his throat. Vex started laughing wickedly as First Thunder fell face down. A rasp escaped his lips and then his life was ended. Caliban looked over at Vex and nodded his approval.
Fleet of Foot was left behind. None of the Riders bothered to check if he was dead or alive. Caliban ordered a fast pursuit. Vex was pulled up onto Maraud’s horse, as Gall’s could barely carry him. Caliban spoke with urgency as they made their way to the castle gates.
The New Guard (Crossroads Book 1) Page 23
